Equivalent Exchange
by gracefulsunshine
Summary: AU, Gen. "Humankind cannot gain anything without giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost." Now, everyone hates Tsuna, including his Family. But that was the price for receiving another chance to change the grisly Future.
1. Prologue : Ex umbra in solem

Music: Family (HetaOni OST)

Beta'd by **Anonymouse123e**.

WAITWAITWAIT DON'T HIT THAT BACK BUTTON JUST YET I know that this not the anticipated G27 fic, but it doesn't mean that it's going to be a bad fic, right?

Granted, _"receiving another chance to change the grisly Future"_ is a tad vague. It's more of a _"15YL!Tsuna's spirit gets implanted in past!Tsuna" _the day before Reborn comes. Though he's now extremely intellectual, 15YL!Tsuna still has to deal with his younger self's lack of physical activity. Poor kid.

The premise of this fic is almost entirely focused on the angst and adventure/tragedy; there will be no pairings here. I'd rather not, since it'd complicate many things in the story, and _Recurring Paradoxes_by itself is a hassle. But anyways, I'll follow the manga on some events; others…you'll have to see.

Please enjoy! (I promise that I'll try not to be a bitch and actually finish this plunny, unlike what happened to FORI, TSOS, and CB…?)

_**EDIT(10/31/2011):**_ Things have been changed here and there to make way for the revised plot, so please re-read this. If you're a new reader, then don't worry about it :D

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><p>WARNING: Violence, gore, language, character deaths, angst, gen. Don't like, don't read.<p>

Disclaimer: OM FUCKING NOM.

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><p><em><strong>Ex umbra in solem<strong>_ | From the shadow into the light

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><p>Blood.<p>

Everywhere.

It dripped from his gloved hands onto the cold, barren ground, maliciously gleaming in the last rays of sunlight. The crimson tint of the liquid seemed to be mocking his melancholy, saying _Even though you took revenge on their killers, they won't come back to life, no matter what happens._

But it was true. No matter what he could try, his Guardians would-could-never come back to life. Not even Reborn, _the_ invincible Reborn, who had taken _twenty seven_ bullets in vital organs for him and then tried to fend off the oncoming enemies even though he was critically injured, who was _the world's strongest hitman_, could return to the land of the living. He would never hear their laughter joyfully ring through the air again, nor spend another day in their comforting companionship. He would never fight alongside with them, feel the now nostalgic kick to the head as a 'wake-up call' or punishment, or endure the hardships of life with them by his side.

It was just the Sky. No Storm, No Sun, No Lightning, No Rain, No Mist, No Cloud. All gone into the void that was called death.

The very proof of that lay a few feet in front of him. Eight people who sacrificed their lives for him. Eight cold, dead bodies. Eight soon-to-be black tombs and white marble gravestones, all scathingly laughing at him in a grisly, inanimate way-_See what you did? See what you caused? See what happened? It's all your fault, it's all your fault, it's all your fault-_

"Forgive me, everyone" -he choked, tears running grimy streaks down his face- "I should have taken action sooner-"

_-it's all your fault, you should have realized the potential consequences, it's all your fault-_

His knees buckled, and he crumpled onto the bloodstained ground, sobbing. _Everyone is missing, compromised, or dead. Vongola is in shambles now, the former strength only a fleeting wish. Nothing is left, nothing at all. No one to lead, no Family to help me, I am no one, nobody now…_

_If only! If the ring had actually accepted Xanxus as the next heir, I wouldn't have become Vongola Decimo. If I had never become Vongola Decimo, this would have never happened. _"If I was stronger, more reliable that what I was before, would this have happened?" he whispered to himself, his voice reduced to a hoarse croak, "If I had actually accepted my destiny from the get-go, this would have happened? If I had actually taken the inheritance, if I was smart enough to notice the impending signs, if I hadn't put my guard down, this would have never happened." He maniacally laughed at the current situation; no one was there and no one could hear him.

He struggled back on his feet, and staggered a few more steps in an attempt to reach the dead bodies of his comrades, each foot put in front of him more excruciatingly painful than the last. "And this was all because of my _stupidity_…" he thought back. His whole plan to counter Byakuran had backfired when his intuition began screaming that he shouldn't "bite" the bullet and that in a sense, Shoichi…wasn't Shoichi. And when he noticed that _all_ of his Guardians and even Reborn came, even though they weren't supposed to, the Millefiore opened fire.

All in all, it was a bloody ambush.

And he had completely screwed up from the beginning. Their only hope was Lambo's Ten Year Bazooka, but that had already been destroyed. He sadly smiled at the unmoving bodies. _Forgive me, everyone._

He moved another step forward and inwardly cursed Byakuran, his parallel universes, and the Sky Mare Ring. Damn bastard was so lucky that if _he _made a mistake, he could just destroy that universe and hop into another. And the Sky Vongola Ring? All it did was aid in passing down traits, and in boosting one's will. _As if that was useful._ Screw Hyper Intuition. Screw genetics. _If they can't help me at a time like this, what are they useful for? Nothing._

"But if I could only somehow tell my past self of my stupidity, so that this-this _macabre_ would never happen again. If only I somehow let him know…" And then he remembered that even Giannini had been murdered in this war, as ironic as it was; apparently they had realized it too late. It wasn't until the Foundation sent him reports about the technician-genocide that he went to check on Giannini and found him dead in a pool of blood.

_Can I do_anything _to stop this from happening?_he thought, taking another step. _It seems as if I can't…_He tried taking one more step-_I'm nearly there, hold on just a bit longer and-_the world suddenly flashed black-white-color. He collapsed, head tilted sideways so that the last thing he saw wouldn't be some damn insect; it would be his Guardians. Friends. Family. _At least I was able to avenge them. At least I can die with them close to me, _he sadly smiled. _But…_ slowly, steadily, the tears slowed down, his heartbeat slowed down, his breaths that were labored gasps slowed down. Soon, his shaking stopped altogether. Once bright amber eyes that were filled with simple, exuberant joy and determination became glassy as they dully stared at the crimson sky.

_Let me see them alive once more_… A final crystalline tear trickled down his face and landed on the Vongola Ring. _Let me change this grisly future._

_Please._

Oblivion finally enfolded him in its embrace.

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><p>Unbeknownst to anyone, the Vongola Ring began to glow, its light a tiny spark of hope in the sea of blood.<p>

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><p>"<em>Greetings, Vongola Decimo. Sawada Tsunayoshi, is it not?"<em>

_He looked up. Amber eyes coolly stared back at him._

_Vongola Primo._

"_Where am I, Giotto?" he cautiously asked. "All I remember is dying and lots of regret. Am I dead?"_

_After a long pause, Primo spoke. "Your body is dead; your spirit is not. I have taken your spirit inside the Vongola Ring until we can resolve a couple of problems that you have created in the world of the living."_

"_So you're saying that I won't get to see my dead friends and Family until we get this issue resolved," he slowly said, frowned, and crossed his arms. "Why?"_

_Giotto bitterly smiled. "Actually, if we followed tradition, your spirit would be eternally locked within the Vongola Ring. Just like Secondo and the rest, and of course, me. But your ultimate destiny, your spirit's fate to become one with the ring, will be suspended until you finish reliving your second chance; for now…" With an I-Gloved hand, the Vongola Primo created a screen made of dying will flames, and he heard his last thoughts._

_The Flame screen then slowly dissipated as Giotto continued. "I have talked to the Tri-Ni-Sette about this, and they have unanimously agreed to let you have one more chance, but on the condition that you pay a price. Have you heard the quote that '_Humankind cannot gain anything without giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost._'?"_

"_That's the first law of the now-obsolete alchemy, right?" he asked, and received a curt nod in reply. "Then what does that have to do with this…situation?"_

"_Alchemical laws are based on life, Decimo. According to alchemy, this law is the one and only truth in the world. With that in mind, you _will _have to pay, in one way or another, to have this wish fulfilled."_

"_My wish? To change the future? To send my knowledge to my younger self?" his eyes widened. "Do you mean that I can…"_

_Primo fixated a slightly cold look on him before continuing, as if to silently say '_children are supposed to be seen, not heard_'. "It all depends on you. I am merely an entity now, albeit one who watches over the Vongola. My era, my time…it is long gone and forgotten. However…" he sighed, raking an I-Gloved hand through his spiky locks of hair. "For better or for worse, it_is _your life, Sawada Tsunayoshi. It is your choice to make. After all, you are the one who must live this life."_

"_I don't care about the price," he replied, looking at his predecessor with determined eyes, as he spoke. At last, after so many years of feeling despair and guilt, hope started to faintly beat its wings in his heart. "I'll use this chance to right the wrongs and avoid what happened."_

_"The answer of a true Vongola Don." A genuine, gentle smile graced Primo's face as the blond nodded once to show his understanding. "So be it, then. I hope everything goes to plan, Vongola Decimo."_

_Phantom arms embraced him before he was enveloped by darkness again._

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><p>So I didn't concentrate on my [very procrastinated] summer homework two days ago cuz of multitasking, all the other good KHR fanfiction, and FMA, and maniacally typed (bullshit'd) this in a day. Totally acceptable XD<p>

Hopefully, this prologue, especially the first scene, wasn't as rushed as much as **Anonymouse123e** and I thought (did I BS anything else major here, like keeping personalities IC? Is so, please tell me). All the '_he_'s were intentional (obviously Tsuna), though I'll revert back to normal in Chapter I. To anyone who's currently disappointed that I didn't go any farther than the Vongola Primo scene. Reborn and _possibly _Gokudera will appear in the next chapter :D

I'll try to update this fic when I have enough time. However, this is not a given, so Story Alerting/Author Alerting is highly recommended…no, I'm not kidding.

Opinions? Thoughts? Feedback?


	2. Chapter I : Ab initio

Music: Sayoko (VOCALOID)

Unbeta'd (completely, utterly raw – except for the first part, but still). Feel free to comment on any errors of any sort.

Thank you _so_ _much_ for all the reviews/favorites/alerts; I can't put into words how much every single one of them made my day /gross sobbing

NOTE : THIS CHAPTER GOES DOWNHILL AS YOU READ ON. EYE-ROLLING, IRRITATION AND SPIT-TAKES MAY ENSUE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

_**EDIT (08/04/2012):**_ The last part of this chapter is being moved to the next chapter because I can't even _write_ Chapter II if I leave it here. To everyone who read this update before this edit was posted, you got a preview. To all newcomers, don't worry about it.

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><p><strong><em>Ab initio <em>**| From the beginning

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><p>Tsuna woke, panting, to a room half-dyed yellow with the sunlight streaming in from the window. So he was in the Sawada residence; <em>his<em> bedroom, to be exact. _What am I doing here? _he thought. _Last time I checked, I was in Italy with the Family, preparing to go to that meeting…and then…_ the brunet racked his brains, trying to rationalize his situation leading up to his current situation.

_And then…and then…_ he couldn't remember anything. Why his mind hurt like hell, how he was in his bedroom in Sawada residence-_which he knew no longer existed, for he had demolished it himself to erase any possible information Byakuran could obtain from it-_what had happened after he left for the meeting with Byakuran.

Nothing.

He knew that this wasn't amnesia. Of course it wasn't. Mafia Bosses weren't supposed to get amnesia. Just in case though, he tried every trick that Reborn had taught him to counter this crisis - well, any moment that involved him forgetting one thing or another-and it didn't work. None of them helped. _They always worked before, _Tsuna thought. _Unless… _

_Could this be Byakuran's doing? He could have used a Rank A illusionist to trick me into believing that I'm back in my old house again, but…wait. No. It'd be such a disgrace to Reborn's tutoring if I couldn't throw one off. _The brunet nostalgically smiled to himself at that thought. _Damn Arcobaleno would probably beat me black and blue for not having the capacity to see through one. But if the others were here, we'd be able to straighten out this situation. If I can find Reborn and the others, I'll be set; they've got to be somewhere._

_For now, I'll manage - no, I _must_ manage. Vongola needs a strong pillar that others can lean on, not the other way around._

Gazing once more upon the bedroom, the brunet felt a twinge of unease spasm through his mind. It seemed so…ordinary. So commonplace. So mundane. It was as if he had been uprooted from the ambush site and put into a reconstruction-or illusion, of course-of his former home, with all the litter and trivial things that he took for granted when he was a teenager.

It was probably one of Byakuran's little games, Tsuna mused. And if Byakuran was going to un-fucking-necessarily drop him into the world of his past just for his private enjoyment, then he - Vongola Decimo - might as well just act like his past self.

Dame-Tsuna.

Innocent, sweet, and kind.

Not to mention stupid. Useless. Wimp.

Herbivore, as Kyoya kept calling him before he actually understood his Cloud Guardian's true meaning with that particular string of appellations.

The brunet shook his head in a mixture of mild amusement and revulsion, and then started clawing at the remnants of his memories, slowly managing to piece together his past self's routine; at least what he could remember from living the good old life in Namimori-_it felt more than ten years, didn't it?_ a snide voice - his sardonic consciousness - sibilantly whispered inside his mind. _Because of all those Mafia dealings and continuously dancing on the edge of life and death as Vongola Decimo._

_Shut up_, he absently replied as he made his way over to the bathroom. But when he got there, Tsuna just stared at the mirror with barely concealed shock, barely restraining himself from breaking the mirror into numerous glinting shards. That…that face. Not even a rank A illusionist could fabricate that kind of accurate detail, down to the last bruise and scar.

Byakuran couldn't pull this off-it couldn't be his doing. The possibility, the chance that the bastard was responsible for this, was slim. That is, if it actually existed. Even with the Mafia's insane history of achieving the impossible, the Millefiore Famiglia's vast intelligence network didn't exist back when he was thirteen, which meant that the illusionists would have had to rely on existing photos taken by Vongola Intelligence. Tsuna himself had already gone through all those images, and there was no way that Byakuran could have guessed from those blurry images that there would be two thin scrapes, located under his hair, from where he tripped the day before. Which meant-

No, that possibility didn't make sense. _Both_ the Ten-Year-Bazooka, which couldn't have achieved this by itself, and Bovino Famiglia, the only Family capable of modifying it, had been destroyed and compromised, respectively, during the bloody long Mafia war!

Tsuna didn't like this at all.

_What the hell is going on? _

_Why do I look like I'm thirteen again?_

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><p><em>The day was already starting bad enough with me looking ten years younger<em>, Tsuna sarcastically thought to himself as he contemplated his new findings. _It couldn't get worse._ After all, it was Namimori-a small, cheerful town-not some major city like Tokyo or Palermo. Abnormal events were a big no-no in regards to the Disciplinary Committee. And even if something _did _happen, Kyoya would just go and beat the shit out of the poor culprit with a big, nastyass stick. Tonfa. Whatever it was called.

A memory fragment popped into his mind, unbidden, even as he slightly shook his head, faintly smiling, in response to that thought. _Expect the worse-case scenario to happen_, Reborn had once said, _because you never know what unknown factor will play into the scene._ In his case, the worst case scenario could involve Byakuran showing up and literally blasting Namimori off Earth. Even if the chances of the white-haired bastard turning his world upside down and landing him in _this _were almost nil, it wouldn't hurt to be on the cautious side. It was something of that sort, really. Anything or anyone meaning to harm - _disfigure, desecrate, mutilate, annihilate - _him.

_Actually, almost anyone_, the brunet amended as an after thought. Family wouldn't harm its members, except in those cheesy soap operas that his mother was all too fond of obsessing over. Real life wasn't a soap opera. It wasn't some parody of _Hamlet_ **(1) **or even _Oedipus Rex_ **(2)**, and he wasn't going to have both family and Family be destroyed from within, by its own kin. Possibly by him. Don Vongola.

Tsuna shook his head again. Sure, other Families had a power issue, but he was pretty sure that he had led Vongola and its allies well back to an age so much like Primo's, yet an age containing the distinctive signature of Vongola Decimo's work.

Yes. Millefiore Famiglia…anyone, really…could go after him again for all he cared, but they wouldn't succeed. The bonds he had forged with his Family and family were too strong for some upstart to easily break.

…_right?_

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><p>Mothers didn't normally go after their sons with a big sharp kitchen knife. Heck, it wasn't even common at all. And it was certainly a huge anomaly in regards to a Japanese woman named Nana Sawada, the modern day's model of Yamato Nadeshiko.<p>

"Mom, what's wrong?" Tsuna asked worriedly as he narrowly dodged a clumsy swipe, via kitchen knife. "It's me, your son! Tsu-kun!" _Also known as Dame-Tsuna_, the brunet mentally added to himself - _wait_. He forgot that he was supposed to be no-good. Whoops. He gritted his teeth for a second, irritated at his slight mistake, then forced his body to relax. It wouldn't do to hint that something was wrong, even though he knew that the simplest of mistakes could trigger an undesired butterfly effect.

"You" –shit. She had gotten her hands on the rest of the kitchen utensils, and _oh lord, he really didn't like the look of that particular one_– "How could you do such a thing?" she snarled as she attempted to surreptitiously wipe away a few stray tears, and threw a two-tined carving fork at her son, which hit the other wall point first. It stuck there, vibrating fiercely.

"I didn't do anything, mom," he replied. It took all of his training to not react and shiftily glance at Mother, who – ideally – was supposed to be oblivious to the family's Mafia-related activities. If there was one thing both he and his father actually agreed on, despite their numerous shortcomings, it was to never, _ever_, let Nana know about the Vongola Famiglia and/or the family's connection to the Mafia. Father would murder him if he let Nana know about the Mafia, and vice versa. It was practically sacrilege.

So he backed up to a safe distance and gazed thoughtfully at his mother, trying to read her and get a sense of the current situation, but it was somewhat odd that his Hyper Intuition couldn't pick up just a _tiny_ bit of information that could immensely help him in one way or another. He didn't have long to ponder on this fact, since Nana came after him with the kitchen knife…again.

Round two: FIGHT!

Figuring that this defensive mode wasn't doing him any good, Tsuna punched a window, causing glass shards - some of them sprinkled with blood - to fly everywhere in a glorious tinkle of light, took the drawer and dumped the rest of the kitchen utensils out of the crude opening and onto the carefully tended lawn. At least mother couldn't get her hands on anything remotely dangerous now, utensil-related.

Well. That left the pans and skillets as possible Objects of Flying Destruction or Objects of Multiple Bashings.

Too bad he couldn't get his hands on them. Nana had already replaced a bent out-of-shape spatula with a wok, with many more pots and pans lying around her feet, and her grim face told him that she wasn't going to relinquish any of _those _weapons to him without a good fight anytime soon. The angry tears…he didn't know for sure, though he had a good hunch about its meaning. If those clues didn't convey her silent, repeating message, the murderous-yet-mournful glint in her eye and the mouthed mantra probably told him the same thing as did the tears in two short, simple sentences. _You betrayed us all. You will die because of this._

He didn't get the full meaning, Tsuna shrugged philosophically, resigning himself to the psychopathic idiosyncrasy of his mother, but he knew this would have to end soon; he needed to figure out why this whole situation was so fucked up - Byakuran was only one reason at this point; not the most logical reason, but certainly a possible explanation - and get in contact with his Guardians and Reborn before something bad happened.

Like the nasty slashes on his cheek and arm that he received by being too immersed in his thoughts. His head was still attached his neck only by sheer luck. Tsuna winced in pain, using the back of his hand to wipe the blood off, even though he knew that it'd still drip down his face. He ignored the trickling sensation, making sure that there was a respectable distance between him and his mother again. _She could have chopped my head off_. _Keep your guard up, Tsuna or you'll never live long enough to get to the bottom of this situation,_ he thought, inwardly berating himself for his lack of concentration. There was a chance that the Nana Sawada in front of him _wasn't_ truly his mother. _Remember Byakuran - this could be all his doing. _

_Remember true dying will_, Reborn had said over and over again when he was a teenager, reinforcing this messages with enough drop-kicks, punches to the head, and even groin shots to make a normal person keel over with internal blood loss.

He chuckled wryly and then blocked a sudden overhead swing with a cutting board, and then threw said board out of the window. It was of no use now - the kitchen knife was so firmly embedded into it that he might as well hack away at the board. _I'm chickening out over something trivial. This…this is sad._

Yup, he needed to man up.

"Mom, snap out of it," Tsuna said, desperate to buy a few moments of time - anything - as he searched for a blunt weapon. "You're never like this before."

Again, he silently heard her litany, even as he concentrated navigating through the endless walls of appliances. It was seemingly endless, seemingly despairing, but he didn't get why she was trying to convey that message to him. But Tsuna pushed that away from his thoughts when he saw a huge ladle lying innocently near the table. It would have to do, even though he knew that there were better makeshift weapons.

He threw it at her temple, hoping that he didn't apply too much force to cause too much damage, and sighed in relief as it hit.

And then bounced off. _Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit._ Mind going overdrive, Tsuna finally decided that enough was enough and then jumped out the window. His T-shirt got caught on one of the sharp edges as he vaulted out and away, but he used more force, pulled through, and started running as fast as he could, leaping over the debris of shards and appliances to find Gokudera – any familiar face, really – and escape from his maniac of a mother. But Gokudera was the best at handling these abnormal situations.

The steady, constant pitter patter of his feet while he ran away from that disturbing scene calmed him a bit, and allowed him to think. Something was off though, but he couldn't figure it out. For one thing, he was tiring quickly. Which was insanely odd, since he regularly worked out to stay in fighting shape. Reborn wouldn't allow any excuses, even if he was snowballed with piles of red tape that came with being _the_ Don of _the_ Vongola Famiglia.

…_Reborn_. Something also _felt_ missing in his memories. It was a true gut feeling.

Come to think of it, wasn't there a lynch pin that was key to this? The only problem was that he had absolutely no idea. What, where, why, when, who, how. There was nothing for him to work with.

His thoughts ran into a standstill when he bumped into someone. Blinking in confusion, he looked down – _wait, what happened to his growth spurt?_ – and back up and found Kyoko gazing at him with barely concealed disgust – something that was definitely not in character for her – before muttering something almost indecipherable (_Idiot, blockhead Tsuna)_ and stalking off in the other direction. Wasn't the reason he had fallen for her in his middle school days because of her kindness?

And honestly – why did she look ten years _younger_?

Maybe the better question was _why _his whole world_ had seemed to go back ten years._

_There's no such thing as working time machines. At least, not at the moment. The Bovino Famiglia's Ten-Year-Bazooka was annihilated. Shoichi may have created a machine to cement the arrival of the past-selves, but the machine only works with people coming into the future._

He knew that doggedly clinging to a belief was harmful, but how everything was turning out…he could only trust his facts. Knowledge and intuition. Both told him that there was maybe a third, unknown factor into this – for Byakuran certainly did not have extremely advanced technology, and what would he gain by doing this - if this was all his doing?

Tsuna continued walking, hands in his pockets and eyes on the ground, unaware of the looks of deep loathing and the intentional jabs (which the brunet somehow managed to avoid) other people were shooting him, and made his way up to the isolated temple. There he sat on the temple steps, attempting to make sense of the whole confusing issue.

He originally was headed for that meeting with Byakuran. The meeting where their double agent, Irie Shoichi, would shoot him with a special bullet, and the place when the Vongola's counterattack would start. Only he didn't know if that had happened due to a lack of memory. The next thing he knew, he was back in Namimori, the lovely place where destroyed buildings were still standing, where dead people were miraculously alive, where everything seemed to reverse back in time by ten years, including himself. The only thing he retained was his mind – and did he really retain it?

Not to mention that display by his mother and Kyoko, and the probing stares he had felt and stray punches he had narrowly avoided from the passerby when he made his way up to the temple. Last time he checked, his reputation was scintillating in the civilian world (posing as a philanthropist, of all things) and he was both feared and respected in the Underworld – even after Millefiore's rise.

But it was just too perplexing. Nothing lined up like it should have, and try as he might, his Hyper Intuition _still_ wasn't aiding him. It was so frustrating, for once. Vongola VS Millefiore situation excluded. Just-

_Think, Tsuna,_ the rational side of him helpfully said. _You've come this far in so many areas – surely it's not gone to waste._

_The people who want to do me…do Vongola and its allies…most harm are the Millefiore Famiglia and its allies. Victims of Vongola's justice. People negatively affected by my decisions. All compromised Families aren't out of the question, either, but they are too weak to create any damage. Not unless they have an ace up their sleeve. _He took a deep breath. In, out, continue-

_Byakuran has the Sky Mare Ring, part of the third set in the Tri-Ni-Sette. Just as the Vongola Rings are Y and the Arcobaleno Pacifiers are Z, the Mare Rings are X. Hereditary traits, alternate dimensions. _

As much as he hated to admit it, there was absolutely no way Byakuran could have done this, hands supposedly create the past Namimori would require either a carefully made hologram – which didn't seem likely – or dozens of Rank A or higher illusionists, and to make everyone unanimously against him would require careful, _forbidden_ tinkering with the mind.

_Or a possession bullet, of course._

…or they could all be puppets. Ginger Bread was a perfect example.

Still, none of the possible solutions explained how even _he_ had the appearance of his past self. It was reasonable to say that Shoichi's machine malfunctioned and the bullet's effects wore off, which was _somehow _why he was in the past with his former self's body, but that didn't explain the hatred or the bewildering actions. For one thing, going back into the past usually left one with his or her own body, and certainly his or her own strength.

And he knew for a fact that Shoichi's inventions rarely malfunctioned, and never to some sort of extent like this.

Nothing fit in.

He had to accept that fact and hold on to his musings for a bit longer before he could gather more information, find his Guardians, and get out of his situation. Sighing, Tsuna stood up, hands on denim jeans, and took another deep breath before making his way down the steps.

It was too tempting to put the blame of this situation on a machine malfunction, but maybe…

Maybe if it really was a malfunction, he'd be out of this perplexing hellhole after a while.

_Maybe._

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><p>1) <em>Hamlet <em>is a Shakespearean tragedy, in which the protagonist, Hamlet, finds that his father died because of his now step-father, Claudius, murdered him and then married his mother. It takes five acts for him to kill Claudius-since this is a tragic play, most of the major characters die-when he could have stabbed Claudius in the back at the end of Act I – or was it Act II or Act III? [Correct me if I'm wrong; I haven't reread _Hamlet_ in…four years?]

2) _Oedipus Rex_ : _**"Kill the king, fuck the queen."**_ I think that sums the plot up pretty well.

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><p>OH MY GOD SOMEONE NEEDS TO STAB ME IN THE GUT OR SOMETHING. ლ(OдO)ლ<p>

Slowly shat the rest of this out after receiving few really, really lovely reviews and PMs telling me to get moving and after reading _Internationally Wanted Criminals_ – **BlackCatHikari** (go check it out; it's extremely well written!). One of the reasons I never updated throughout the year was my loss of interest in the KHR fandom. That, and well…life. I have no regrets.

You can probably tell when I wrote each part with the slight difference in style and diction. The first part was written and beta'd a bit by **Anonymouse123e** after I posted the EE prologue. And then it just went bits and crappy pieces into the next year. I don't think I managed to capture the whole wariness and confusion that Tsuna's facing right now because he was kind of copypasta'd into where we are right now (war zone to normal day OTL), and I'm not proud of the first chapters of all of my stories because of their somewhat flowery language and other factors, but hey – I've matured, both as a writer/artist (maybe more as an artist than as a writer) and as a person. Hopefully. That's always something to be happy about, anyhow.

The action scene sucks. It's what one gets when the notion of a cool fight with kitchen materials clashes with the age-old fact that fighting is all about _not_ being _defeated_ or _dying_. It has nothing to do with cool, flashy moves. Even if we love those combo attacks that mangakas seem to misuse/abuse nowadays.

My apologies to anyone who wanted to see Reborn in this chapter. Honestly, I wanted to have him interact with Tsuna, but it wouldn't fit in. He'll definitely appear in Chapter II…if I get to writing it sometime, LOL.

Hope you all enjoyed this belated update! Opinions? Thoughts? Feedback?

/crawls and dies in a corner

PS : Would anyone be so kind to recommend me any genuinely well written fanfiction? To be quite honest, I haven't excruciatingly checked the archive in quite a long time. I'm just looking for a good read.


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